USUK - Burnt Biscuits and Warm Recollections
by Rae'vyn Phiar
Summary: Alfred comes over to Arthur's house for no reason in particular, but then remembrances over the burnt cooking make his visit worthwhile. Rated M for yaoi and references to sex. Thanks for reading, reviewing, faving, and following! Love you guys!


_Yo! I really like writing Hetalia too! USUK really speaks to me right now, and I felt like writing a cute little fic for all you lovely fluff/humor readers!_

_The reason I'm taking a bit of a reprieve on AkuRoku/ Zemyx for now is because I recently lost someone very close to me and AkuRoku was what we were planning on cosplaying, among others. It was very close to us, or at least to me. I want to let that relationship fade away easily, and in order to do so, I'm going to let those boys go for a bit of time. Probably not that long though._

_Thanks for reading, reviewing, faving, and following! Please request new stuff and tell your friends to ask about new fics too! Not sure if I'll put another chapter on this one, but if you request a scenario or prompt, there's __**more**__ than a promise that I'll write it! I need prompts!_

_Rated M for kissing. Kissing of the __**yaoi**__ variety! And Alfred (America) makes a __**mention**__ of sexy time. Literally; that's what he calls sex in my non-lemon fics. What can I say; I'm a yaoi and USUK shipper… Ha ha; like that makes it any better!_

**USUK – Burnt Biscuits and Warm Recollections**

"What's with you?" Arthur stood at the entry to the kitchen, questioning the man who was rolling on the recently-cleaned floor, practically dying from laughter. "All I said was hello."

"No… ha…" Alfred stood up from his fit of laughter, pointing at the pretty pink apron the elder man wore tied at his waist. There was even a line of white lace on the hems! "It's just… That stupid apron… You surprised me…" He wiped the laughing tears out from behind his glasses and clapped a hand on his shoulder as he strode past Arthur into the kitchen. "It's nothing."

The green-eyed man glanced down, picking at the hem, mumbling, "This was a Christmas gift…" Then he followed the younger man, stepping up to the counter, where a cooling rack of cooling biscuits, or cookies, as Alfred called them, sat. He removed two mugs from the shelf above.

Alfred tried not to focus on the burnt edges of the cookies in passing, sitting at the round table in the corner with his head in his palm. Obviously, cooking wasn't this guy's strong suit. But he'd forced many other things that the elder man had fruitlessly tried to concoct in this same room, and these didn't seem to be as awful as some he'd choked down in the past.

"Here. I know you don't really drink tea, so I made you some coffee." The other blonde sat at the table next to him, a small plate of the homemade biscuits in hand. He had removed the frilly apron, his loose white button-down and jeans looking pretty good on him. For some reason, the normally prim and proper Englishman had even chosen to leave three buttons undone at the collar, leaving the shirt untucked.

Alfred couldn't help himself as he stole a glance at the pale skin of his throat and collarbones. Normally, he'd only have a look like this when it was sexy time, but today was different, he supposed. Or maybe the kitchen had just become too warm for him? The Englishman _was_ used to all those bitterly cold winters and shitty, rainy, cold weather anyway where he lived.

"Want one?" The elder nudged the plate with his elbow, scooting a little closer to the other man on the built-in window seat. "I know I'm not too good at baking, but I haven't tried this trick that the _frog_ taught me."

"_Bonnefoy_ tried to _teach_ you? I'm surprised you even let him inside your front door!"

With a bitter tone and a slight glare, Arthur crossed his arms. "I never invited him over. I called that _bloody_ idiot." The look on his face was one of disgust, and the blue-eyed man knew it was time to change the topic.

The elder was surprised at Alfred taking one of the scalded cookies from the plate and nibbling on it a bit, the man clearly in thought. He'd never before eaten anything he made without it nearly being shoved down his throat. It wasn't his fault he was a bad cook, but what the blue-eyed man did… Was he actually getting better?!

It wasn't bad, just burnt. Alfred even managed a smile. "They're pretty good for your frog trying to help. Yours, the ones you made all by yourself, were always better to me, though." He kept running his mouth, even though he didn't know why. "You always strived for the best, even though most of the time you'd nearly blow up the kitchen. And I was always proud of you when you made something that wasn't too charred or salty or oily. I remember the one time you made brownies and they were so burnt and stuck in the pan that we ended up throwing the pan away with them!"

He laughed at the memory and sipped at his coffee, not noticing the stare that Arthur was giving him. When he put his mug down, he turned toward him and asked, "What? Something I said?"

"You were always proud of me, even when I failed?"

"Duh. Why else did you think I ate your cooking all those years?" He sighed. "But it wasn't just that… It was to see you smile and be proud of yourself, even when others told you that it was pointless, to stop trying your best and simply live with the fact that you'd, quote on quote, 'be a failure'. All I wanted to see was that confident guy I'd spend my time with. That man who I'd grown to respect and follow…"

He smiled to himself and drew the emerald-eyed man into his side, planting a kiss on the top of his messy blonde hair. "I never wanted to see you sad or disappointed. All I ever wanted was your happiness…"

Feeling his warm arms slide around his waist, holding him in return, Alfred slid his hand against the side of Arthur's cheek. He gazed into those deep green eyes and knew exactly what the man he loved was going to do.

In an instant, Arthur's lips were on his, a sweet and long kiss taking him to a place he wanted to definitely be. He turned his head to the side, opening his lips into other man's as he felt the elder's warm exhale on his cheek, taking him into his arms on the small window seat.

When they broke apart, Arthur reached up and traced the outline of the blue-eyed man's lower lip with his forefinger, gazing into warm eyes. Those eyes that betrayed every emotion that the younger man ever had. Understanding, trust, compassion, and most of all, they were filled to the brim with simple, pure love.

"Alfred…"

"Yeah?"

Arthur pointed at the half-eaten biscuit lying on the table, discarded by the younger man when he starting kissing him. "You really don't have to force yourself to finish it. I know it's not the best." His lips spread into a warm, knowing smile.

Alfred kissed him once more, little more than a slight peck on the lips, and scarfed down the rest of the sweet. "I don't mind… I like seeing you smile like that." He glanced down at the plate, and, despite his stomach not really agreeing with the action, took another, knowing how much this simple gesture meant to the older man.

"I wouldn't want the best anyway. Because you're the best for me."


End file.
